


love isn't random | we are chosen

by voidslantern



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean!Shiro, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Galra!Keith, Hurt/Comfort, Low-key Soulmates, M/M, Near Death Experiences, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Smut, Strong Language, Xenobiology, blade!Keith, let's be honest sheith ARE soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:47:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21960418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidslantern/pseuds/voidslantern
Summary: Keith, as Krolia’s protege and a promising young Blade, is assigned to strengthen the alliance with the Alteans through the simplest of tasks — cooperative missions. He skulks for a day before accepting. Not because he’s slacking off or distrusts the Alteans. It just happens that his assigned partner is that hunk of an Altean with kind eyes and broad shoulders.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 193





	love isn't random | we are chosen

**Author's Note:**

> A Sheith Secret Santa gift to Mahokoyuki who asked for Altean!Shiro and Galra!Keith (I couldn't resist, the moment I saw that prompt I was sold).  
> Fic title inspired by James Young's song "Infinity".  
> Please read the tags before reading the fic.

The first time when Keith believes in a chance to win the war against Emperor Zarkon happens on the day his unit escorts the Blade leaders on a political visit to the (in)famous Castle of Lions, humble abode of Princess Allura of Altea.

The Princess, while obviously in for vengeance, spares nothing of what she and her few remaining subjects have left for the war effort. Namely, magic. An obviously powerful leverage against the Druids and Haggar and something the Blades have been in dire need of to tip the scales of war in their favour.

Keith, as Krolia’s protege and a promising young Blade, is assigned to strengthen the alliance with the Alteans through the simplest of tasks — cooperative missions. He skulks for a day before accepting. Not because he’s slacking off or distrusts the Alteans. It just happens that his assigned partner is that hunk of an Altean with kind eyes and broad shoulders. It's not necessarily a bad thing, no. Maybe Keith is imagining things or freaking out for no reason — he hasn't had a chance to… _dally_ with all the fighting going on in every sector of the galaxy so maybe his strong reaction to the male is just that — body chemistry.

He accepts, true, but remembering yesterday's meeting doesn’t help. The moment Keith saw him, the Altean — Shiro — couldn’t get his eyes off of him, either. Keith even asked Antok if there was something on his face. The masked Blade only snorted, though the gut feeling told Keith that Antok was smirking at him and that he wouldn’t have liked that smirk if he could see it.

Now that the next day of the Blades' visit Keith has consented, the situation becomes only worse when Princess Allura asks Keith specifically to watch over Shiro. He, as it turns out, is one of the few remaining Sacred Alteans. Explanations are long and tineous. Keith quickly gets the gist of it and while he acknowledges the importance of the task, Keith can't help but bristle at the rather condescending tone with which Kolivan points out to Keith that it means he cannot be reckless during his joined missions with Shiro.

The Altean, to his credit, pays little mind to Keith’s scowl and acts most admirably, offering Keith his large palm for a handshake. Keith takes it — and knows no peace ever since.

He isn't as surprised by Shiro’s metal hand, though Shiro still misunderstands anyway, his features immediately growing upset.

“Sorry. Did it startle you?” he mumbles, his brow furrowed.

Keith, not at all bothered by the prosthetic but rather trembling from head to toe with one hell of an odd sensation — like raw quintessence pouring up his nerves all the way to his heart and brain from where their fingers touch — manages to shake his head. He is staring, he knows he is, but a single word pulsates in his mind as he holds Shiro’s gunpowder gaze.

_Mine._

There is no telling for Keith if Shiro feels what he does — nothing in the Altean’s countenance betrays his thoughts. Only maybe the tips of his pointed ears turn faintly pink, yet Keith cannot quite consider it a confirmation of his suspicions. Keith’s whole being is on alert while Shiro remains calm and it will be no good if Keith cannot follow. He grits his teeth and plasters a polite expression on his face, forcing himself to let go of Shiro's hand and murmur an apology that gnaws on his insides. A lie to cover another feeling, too raw and primal even for a full-blooded Galra.

Coran, Princess Allura’s uncle and trusted advisor, coughs into his fist, then jests, dispelling the palpable tension in the air. Krolia and Kolivan are busy giving Keith nasty looks and all he can do is to just stand there, quietly, still shaking, and half-listen to the talks, very aware of Shiro occasionally glancing his way.

He can't help but wonder, after all the abuse the Galra have made the Alteans go through before finally destroying their home planet, does Shiro see in Keith's purple skin and elongated canines the ghosts of the soldiers coming after them? Do the markings on his skin and violet eyes arouse memories that might be history for everyone else but still too painfully fresh for someone just out of cryo sleep? 

_It must be it_ , Keith thinks, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, growing frustrated and hot in his Blade suit, beneath Shiro's piercing eyes. 

* * *

Thus, a very strange period in Keith’s life has begun. Currently, he pilots a fighter craft disguised as one of the Galran fleet. Shiro is his second pilot, busy typing away on the console in a seat behind Keith's.

“Theta cluster. Bearing one, seven, zero, seven.”

“ETA T minus seven vargas.”

“...We should have used a wormhole.”

Shiro has been at it ever since their trip began. Either he is too used to the presence of Allura and the comfort of the Castle of Lions’ teladuv or he simply doesn’t want to spend this much time locked up in such a tight space with a Galra.

“You know that we can’t. This close to the fleet, the witch will detect us instantaneously.”

“Not if we use this star’s radiation to cover the wormhole’s afterimage.”

Keith glares at the 3d render of Amak-7 and huffs. Shiro’s smug grin is getting on Keith’s nerves even through his console’s monitor. 

“Why didn’t you propose that when—”

“I _did._ Well, I tried. You called me an old timer and said I know nothing of the modern world.”

“True.”

“I’m not even than old,” Shiro adds after a lengthy pause.

“Who knows with you Alteans,” Keith hums. “The Princess looks hardly older than seventeen deca-phoebs and yet she’s at least 10 000 deca-phoebs old, thanks to cryo sleep. And so are you, give it or take it.”

“Neither of us was actually living during those phoebs,” Shiro says, unusually quiet. Keith glances at the monitor, noting the haunted light in Shiro’s eyes. He really doesn’t like it.

“So, how old are you, actually?” Keith finds himself saying.

Shiro looks right back at him from the console. Even with a barrier of tech between them, Shiro’s gaze is still intense. After a heartbeat, he grins, broad and sunlight-warm.

“I’m twenty-five.”

Keith gapes. He’s older than Shiro?!

“What? What is it?”

Keith blushes and turns away. “Nothing.”

“Keiiiithhh—”

“Shut up.”

“How old are _you_ , o mighty Blade?”

His tone is insufferable. Keith considers turning off artificial gravity just to mess with him. Shiro keeps on pestering and it gets Keith's blood boiling quicker than any adrenaline rush.

Regardless, Keith refuses to admit he’s called an old timer someone two deca-phoebs younger than him, so he elects to vigorously ignore Shiro’s teasing for the rest of their flight. Somewhat offended by Keith, Shiro pouts for a good varga, typing away furiously now.

_Tsk. Is he mad at me for not humouring him, huh?_

* * *

It hasn’t occurred to Keith at first that the elegant and always so pristinely clean-shaved and white-gloved Shiro will turn out to be an admirable fighter but here Keith is.

Eyes wide, he stares at Shiro’s broad back before him, iridescent shield in his left hand and a silver sword in his right. Shiro’s block sends Keith’s opponent flying across the dock — Keith himself is busy trying to recover from a staggering blow to his chest, still out of breath. If it wasn’t for Shiro…

Shiro has already dispatched of the other Galra sentries — the sentinel has been the only one to cause any trouble. Keith… isn’t at his best right now, distracted even, though where usually shame over such failures resides, is nothing but exhaustion now.

The fight didn't go that well. At first, Shiro locked up at the sight of the sentries, his expression pained and twisted in terror. Keith took the brunt of the initial attacks on himself, revelling in bloodlust that made him snarl. He moved naturally to protect his partner, though the moment the first sentry got to Shiro, something new rippled and exploded within Keith's core. He went nearly berserk slashing through the sentry, slicing it in two with his blade shifting from the dagger form to a kukri mid-movement.

Shiro had come back to it after Keith slapped his cheek, snarling viciously his name. The contact sent sparks of quintesense-like sensation up Keith's arm but he had accepted the feeling by now as something that _is there_ between Shiro and him. That little slap was what saved them: as much of an able fighter Keith is, he still got overwhelmed by the quantities.

He accepts Shiro’s outstretched hand and hefts himself back to his feet, then surveys the battlefield littered with the dispatched Galra sentries.

“And here I thought Princess Allura keeps you around just to look pretty.”

Shiro chuckles, “I have other qualities, too.”

They continue inside the base. It’s a while until Shiro speaks again. “You think I am pretty?”

Keith stumbles over his feet and nearly goes flying face-first into the floor. 

“Um! It’s! Just a turn of phrase!”

Shiro’s white teeth gleam as he grins. “You’re pretty, too.”

Keith isn’t sure how he’s still alive but Shiro clearly is after his head today.

Regardless, it takes no small amount of self-control on Keith’s part to be able to focus on the mission at hand. He can almost see the sniggering faces of his fellow Blades, a continued reminder of Kolivan’s instruction to refrain from being reckless and impulsive.

It’s hard. The Altean is right there, all new to Keith, and stupidly, utterly gorgeous.

No matter the distractions, their mission is a success, naturally. They still make quite some noise but Shiro is surprisingly good at quietly and ruthlessly dispatching of enemies.

They rescue the prisoners, even find a few humans amongst them — no doubt the Paladins of Voltron will appreciate this. Then, they hijack a few shuttles and escort the ex-prisoners to Amak-7. Princess Allura opens a wormhole and whisks the group away to safety.

These cooperation missions last on and off for nearly a deca-phoeb. Things between Shiro and Keith remain lukewarm, though mostly because neither acknowledges how easy it is to flirt, how easy it is to understand each other. Perhaps exactly because it will take a single step, neither makes it. Not when the war with Zarkon is at its peak.

* * *

The war leaves scars on both land and people. When Keith sees Shiro again, it’s a few phoebs since their last mission together. There’s a fresh wound mark marring the flesh across Shiro’s nose and cheeks. Keith eyes it with hidden worry.

Keith has heard wisps of talk and knows about Shiro’s capture by the Empire — and about his escape. If Keith had known about it earlier, he would have made it in for a rescue, no matter his own undercover operations on the behalf of the Blade of Marmora.

Still, Shiro is the same impossible Altean even after all he went through, always making sure to fluster Keith to a point where he would stammer helplessly and blush until finally he’d be forced to opt out to hide behind his bangs and brood. Shiro is the same and yet he can’t quite hide that haunted light in his eyes, not from Keith.

This time, it is Keith who asks to have his missions go with Shiro’s. Both the Princess and the Blade leaders approve of that. Shiro shoots Keith a mischievous glance and later approaches him, quipping,

“I wasn’t aware you’ve missed me so much, Keith.”

“I couldn’t help myself. You were giving me that look across the room.”

“Huh? And what was it?”

“Like that of a space wolf pup begging for pets.”

“Oh my!” Shiro’s grin grows almost saccharine. “I can’t believe you’ve finally grown a pair.”

Keith shoves him, groaning in frustration. Shiro laughs and finally, his eyes light up with that kind, youthful warmth Keith hasn’t wanted to admit to have missed.

The next few quintants prove to Keith that inevitably over the phoebs he has known Shiro, he has warmed up to him enough to consider a friend. Shiro is incredibly clever and quick, his strategic thinking has led their coalition through enough of trying times for Shiro to gain enormous respect amongst the Blades.

More often than not, the two of them find each other chatting away not only during their long trips but on the days of rest as well. They always find each other’s company most welcome and naturally gravitate to each other — much to everyone else’s initial surprise and then, inevitably, delight.

Keith doesn’t dare to ask about Shiro’s capture and Shiro doesn’t bring it up, either, but Keith senses gratefulness in the Altean. All Keith can do is wake Shiro when his nightmares take hold and the male screams and begs as he tosses and kicks on the spare bunk bed of Keith’s ship.

“I don’t need your pity,” Shiro says.

“I know,” Keith replies and holds him firmer until the shaking stops and then some just to be sure, “but I’m here for you.”

Shiro doesn’t answer, tiredly falling back into his pillow. Keith, unsure, makes it to leave but a strong hand catches him by the wrist. One eye is visible behind the outgrown white bangs. “Stay.”

Keith does, curling up awkwardly by Shiro’s side. The bunk bed is narrow — and too small for two grown males — so they touch and the warmth seeping into Keith sets his memories running wild. That same profound possessiveness rears inside of him, even more so when Shiro grows tired of Keith’s futile attempts to get comfortable and wraps his hand around him, pulling him closer into his side.

Keith blushes in the dim light of the ship, then settles for watching over Shiro instead.

* * *

Zarkon’s forces, cornered and diminished nearly by a half by Voltron and the Coalition, strike back with more venom than ever before.

To Keith, the only admirable thing to ever come to be because of Zarkon is his half-Altean son, Prince Lotor and, as many hope, the future leader of the Galra. 

Shiro has hardly been showing up to the meetings lately but Keith knows the Altean is busy helping his Princess and her new ally. Many hopes rely on the alliance with Lotor… as well as many dangers.

Keith prefers not to dwell too much over the heavy weight of longing that builds up inside his chest and focuses instead on his own missions. His mother and Kolivan are more than proud to see Keith advance through the ranks, his experience on the battlefield and more than enough of successful missions behind his belt granting him the status of Krolia’s second-in-command.

With that trust comes more responsibility and one day, Keith is assigned to captain a regiment of the Marmora forces in a battle to take back one of the Galra-occupied planets.

No one has known about the druids. No one has been prepared.

Keith’s unit is crushed within vargas. He and a few other Blades barely make it out with their lives though they are scattered, chased down both by the upgraded sentries and druids.

His ship is hit, all systems flashing red and oxygen levels depleting dangerously fast. The fighter on his tail is one persistent fuck, sparing nothing in his attempts to get to Keith.

Keith’s piloting skills are good. Not the best — certainly not a match to Shiro’s who seems to have been born with wings on his back — but he’s good enough to trick the druid, shooting it with one last blast.

There’s no small amount of satisfaction to watch the fireworks that become of the druid’s fighter. Even more so since Keith knows his own ship won’t last long either. 

That busted engine core is overheating rapidly. 

It won’t be long now.

When Keith closes his eyes, he thinks of gunpowder eyes, bright and clever and kind, of smooth skin he bets is velvety to touch, and rolling, strong muscles shifting beneath.

It kind of puts things into perspective, the phoebs-long denial, finally faced at the end of his journey, making his heart ache with a feeling so strong it outweighs the natural reaction of his body, the adrenaline pumping in his veins.

He should have made that step.

* * *

There’s unease inside Shiro, his whole body jittery and restless.

He can’t help but describe it as a pull, a gut feeling that won’t let him find peace.

It only grows worse with each tick until Shiro finally caves and asks his Princess for permission to leave. She grants it — throwing concerned glances Shiro’s way — but he marches off to one of the shuttles, not quite daring to request for anything better. The gut feeling grows only stronger, bordering with pain now.

“Shiro?” Allura stands at the feet of the landing platform of the shuttle he chose, looking up at him, worried.

“I— I must go. I’m sorry, Princess.”

_Why does it hurt so much?_

“Did something happen?”

Shiro’s fingers tremble as he opens the shuttle’s door and hops inside the cabin.

“I don’t know. I can’t explain it. I… I need to follow this feeling or— or something bad will happen.”

Allura immediately has her shackles raised. “What feeling? Are you sure this isn’t Haggar’s foul magic again?”

“It’s not, Princess.” The pain in his chest makes it hard to breathe, his heart racing as if he’s about to succumb to a panic attack. Slowly, his thoughts shift and focus to that one person in Shiro’s life who means the world to him and finally, with dread gathering in the pit of his stomach, he understands.

“It’s… about Keith.”

“Keith? What happened, Shiro? Is he alright?” Shiro meets her blue gaze and whatever Allura sees makes her frown. “What can I do to help?”

* * *

Keith groans.

His whole body hurts, his head the most. 

Carefully, he dares to open one eye but immediately shuts it, far too sensitive to light. He groans again, trying to move, and prefers not to think too much as for why there is any light here in the first place.

Someone is immediately by his side, murmuring his name and gently supporting him as Keith tries to sit up.

“Hey, hey. Take it easy.”

That voice…

“Sh—” he coughs and tries again. “Shiro?”

“Yeah.” That comes out choked out and Keith dares to open his eyes again.

He still flinches, waiting for his eyes to adjust to what appears to be a small bonfire. There is enough illumination for him to make out cave walls — it seems that Shiro had found a way to land on one of the system’s planets and hid them here.

Then, Shiro’s face finally comes into focus, pale and brows pinched, eyes red from tears the Altean hurriedly wipes away.

“Shiro, how— how are you here?” Keith asks, lifting his fingers with effort to wipe away a rogue tear off of Shiro’s cheek. 

“I was looking for you.”

“But how did you—”

Shiro laughs, still crying, and gathers Keith up into a tight embrace.

“Ow ow ow!”

“Oh, sorry!” Shiro lets go of him hurriedly. “I did my best to heal you but you still are going to need some time to recover fully.” 

“Uh… I crashed, didn’t I…”

“You nearly died, Keith.”

It’s no news. Slowly, memories begin to return, of the fight, of the chase, of another ship suddenly popping up on his radar, his busted comms cracking with Shiro’s distorted voice. Then, there was nothing else but the explosion. He sighs, resting his back against the rough cave wall. Shiro has brought some sleep bags and pillows but the surface of the cave they are currently in is still hard beneath him. His aching body longs for a proper bed but Keith takes what he gets anyway.

“My ship was destroyed. My unit… There wasn’t any more distress signals around this quadrant?” 

Shiro looks at him, perplexed. “There weren’t _any_ distress signals. Not even from you, Keith.”

“What? But how did you find me?”

Shiro sighs, looking down. His flesh hand clutches at his chest as if he’s trying to ease some pain there. 

“I… had this feeling. It was quintants ago. I just… picked up and rushed here. I was barely on time to save you from the wreckage. You were unconscious, wounded, drifting away.”

Keith frowns. “That’s… most strange. Do these… feelings often happen to you?”

Shiro chuckles. “You’re the only one who makes me feel like this.”

Keith flinches in sudden pain as if his chest was being repeatedly stabbed, and groans, sweat forming on his skin. Shiro is immediately by his side, soothing him. He leans in, gently brushing Keith’s cheek, looking at him with softness.

“You’re still hurting. Here.”

Shiro closes his eyes and odd tingling begins to pour over Keith’s skin. Faintly, with his peripheral vision, Keith notices glowing and looks up at Shiro. His sweet, precious face is mere inches away and he watches in awe Shiro’s pale blue Altean markings glow with white light, Shiro’s entire body emanating glow that seeps onto Keith, little drops of quintessence dancing in the air.

“Why are you helping me?” Keith manages, stunned too much to think straight.

“You have helped me too,” Shiro answers, smiling down at him fondly.

* * *

It takes Keith to nap for a bit for the effects of the healing to take hold.

Shiro can’t bring himself to leave his side and at some point he falls asleep with Keith tucked safely into his side.

The thought of nearly losing Keith comes crashing down hard on him. He sees nightmares, gory and full of death and burning Altea. Keith is there, too, resplendent in the Altean garb, still and cold on the Castle’s floor.. 

His sobs wake both of them and Keith is the one who comforts Shiro when all he wants to do the same for Keith.

Their mutual support is what sustains them as they continue to camp in that cave. Shiro dares to run the scanners of his shuttle once only to bring back grim news of a Galran fleet stationed in the system they took refuge in. Attempting to move the quickly recovering Keith is out of the question, as well as any sort of an attempt to reach the Coalition.

They are stranded.

“Well, at least the company is great,” Keith jokes.

Shiro hums in approval, mentally taking count of their supplies. “We should last for ten more quintants. Then, we either leave or hunt, I suppose.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem, then,” the Blade flashes a grin, his fingers toying deftly with his knife. Keith’s smiles are always toothy, his canines sharp and gleaming. Strangely, Shiro wouldn’t have minded these teeth marking him.

The thought, while new, doesn’t surprise Shiro. Keith is stunning through and through, the more time he spends with him, the harder it is to resist until finally he finds himself with a lapful of Keith. It all started as an innocent spar, just to keep them on their toes as they wait for the Galran fleet “to kindly fuck off”, as Keith likes to say.

At first, neither seems to be able to speak nor move. They just stare at each other, stunned, a little sweaty from their brawl.

Keith’s braid is falling over his shoulder, the tip tickling the bare skin of Shiro’s flesh bicep. The markings on Keith’s lilac skin almost match the tint of his blush, the fresh scar on his cheek not at all diminishing his stunning, sharp beauty.

Shiro moves before he thinks, his flesh fingers pushing away some of Keith’s bangs so that he can admire him unobscured. Keith, inadvertently, leans into the touch and lets Shiro cradle his face in his hands.

Shiro has never seen anything as beautiful as this brave male in his arms. His heart, that has been swelling with feelings for Keith for what feels like a lifetime — though it is hardly ten deca-phoebs since they have met — finally spills in a form of a kiss pressed hastily to Keith’s plump, soft lips.

Clearly, Shiro isn’t thinking straight. That familiar pain claws at his chest and, defiant, Shiro pulls Keith a little closer, making the smaller male slide further into his lap.

Keith groans, pulling away enough to scorch Shiro with his gaze, and assaults his lips with passion that would have knocked Shiro off of his feet for sure if he hasn’t already been lying down on the ground. Shiro nearly whimpers when Keith’s tongue slips into his mouth. He drinks the smile on the Blade’s lips, kissing back with all the repressed feeling he has had to hold back for stars know how long.

Keith… Keith is everything.

A challenger, always keeping him on his toes. A soldier, kind yet ruthless in war. A friend, always there to support and to fool around.

And now, this. 

A lover Shiro has been waiting for his entire life and has finally found, phoebs and his entire civilization’s fall later.

But here they are. Finally, safe in each other’s hands.

They kiss for a long time, neither willing to give up on the sensations nor wishing to part.

Keith begins to grind against Shiro when the heat between them grows unbearable without a release. Shiro hums approvingly at the hardness in Keith’s tight pants — he himself has been roused for a while now though Keith seemed unaware of it until their clothed erections finally brushed against one another, causing them both to grunt softly.

“Keith?” Shiro seeks his face.

The Blade nods, curt and somewhat shy, and gets up only to have his hand out to help Shiro up, too.

They hardly speak as they walk deeper into the cave to where their humble living area is.

Shiro has his hand on the small of Keith’s back and when their feet hit the two sleeping bags that long since are being shared between them, Keith turns, facing Shiro again. He has to stand up on the tips of his toes to reach Shiro’s mouth but when he does, Shiro whimpers pathetically into the kiss.

“Your tongue is…” Shiro begins.

“Hm?” Saccharine and teasing.

“It’s doing things to me.”

Keith grins cockily. “Does it now?”

His fingers begin to deftly undo the fastenings of Shiro’s clothes. He tries to return the gesture and despite having seen Keith dress and undress multiple times before, he still gets lost in the Blade of Marmora uniform.

Keith laughs and kisses down Shiro’s neck to his chest, then over his abs until he ends up kneeling in front of Shiro, a suggestive glance at the tent in Shiro’s pants.

He curses, drinking in the sight and tucking it away into his memory, then simply pounces, pinning Keith beneath himself as he finally finds the hidden zipper of his suit.

“Took you long enough,” Keith teases.

Shiro simply replies, “I love you, Keith” and kisses each and every scar he finds on the velvety lilac skin. Keith whimpers, freezing beneath Shiro. He has to rise up to search his face and finds Keith’s large eyes tinted with silver, gleaming in the always dim light of their hideout.

“I love you too, Shiro,” Keith says, voice hoarse and breaking. “I love you so much.”

Shiro kisses him again, quite happy, probably also a little lucky to have heard the most treasured words uttered by Keith with such raw feeling.

It doesn’t take them long to get rid of their clothes but thus the exploration of each other’s bodies begins.

Keith can’t seem to stop salivating at how large and thick Shiro is in his hand. The natural glow of Altean cocks seems quite surreal to him but he still admires the pale blue-gray light of Shiro’s dick and the beads of pre-come already dripping from the head. Shiro on his part quickly develops fondness towards Keith’s own ridged cock, a lovely knot at its base swelling under Shiro’s attentions.

They don’t think much about the prep — Altean bodies are always adapting to the needs of their partner to ease the interspecies coupling — and now Keith whimpers as Shiro carefully works his entrance open, sliding his dripping dick in-between Keith’s butt cheeks to wet it enough.

“That’s handy,” Keith pants out, busy greedily arching into Shiro’s touch.

“We’re a communal species, remember?” Shiro purrs out, pushing two of his fingers inside Keith and scissoring. Keith is incredibly responsive down there and his dick twitches every time Shiro pumps his fingers a little deeper, prompting a loud, needy moan out of Keith when he adds the third. Since they are in a cave, Keith’s breathy moans and gasps, along with Shiro’s possessive grunts, echo back and forth, along the wet squelching sounds. It only makes their lust stronger, all-consuming. 

“Fuck… fuck me,” Keith half-orders, half-pants out, pulling Shiro down with both his hands and his infinitely long legs clinging tightly to him.

“Ah… Okay, baby,” Shiro murmurs, kissing the spot beneath Keith’s jaw. The Blade whimpers, angling their bodies further. He would have impaled himself on Shiro’s dick on his own, ever the impatient one, if Shiro hasn’t taken mercy on him and slotted himself against Keith’s entrance, his head dripping as it pressed against Keith slick rim.

Keith curses, something filthy in a language Shiro doesn’t understand, and arches when their bodies finally join.

They gaze at each other, drinking in the sensation, and Shiro drops down to his elbows to kiss his lover, again and again murmuring his confession against the heated plumpness of Keith’s lips.

From where does this strength comes from, to be able to say those words when for the longest time Shiro felt like nothing but weak.

Keith tilts his face, practically begging to be smothered with kisses. Shiro decides to alternate, running his hands up and down Keith’s sides, flicking a thumb over his swollen nipples as he begins to roll his hips, his pace slowly building up both in depth and strength of the strokes. The lovely male beneath him is taking it with near reverence until they both realise just the sheer strength of the bond between them. 

Together, they are perfect.

Shiro doesn’t quite let Keith get away with all the bragging about the Galran stamina and shows him his Altean skill. Keith falls apart three times before Shiro is finally done with him (for now) and cums himself. Keith still milks him dry, quite happy about getting full of “Altean glowing cum” that drip down his ass and thighs. 

“What a mess,” Shiro laughs, burying his face in the crook of Keith’s neck.

“Can I draw with it? Oh fuck yeah, I can—”

“KEITH NO!” It’s too late and Shiro has a little glowing heart shape on his belly, much to Keith’s delight. He bristles, “STOP SMEARING CUM ALL OVER!”

Keith continues to laugh, open and silly and merry. He’s clearly quite satisfied with embarrassing Shiro to a point where his pointed ears begin to burn with heat.

“You’re…”

“Mhm?”

“Insufferable.”

“Love you too—”

It finally clicks for Shiro. “So this is how it’s going to be like, huh?” Keith’s smile is pure innocence. Shiro groans, then slides his half-hard dick against Keith’s, making him jolt in surprise. “I didn’t do a good enough job of fucking you, baby?”

“Galra stamina is no joke.”

“I like a challenge,” Shiro purrs, wrapping his broad prosthetic hand around both of their shafts. Keith self-satisfied smile is tell-tale but he lets it slide, for now. He’s enjoying this, too, after all.

* * *

“It’s been phoebs and I can’t believe my mate has a glowing dick,” Keith says one sunlight afternoon, the War long since over and the Empire — and the galaxy — healing from Zarkon’s filth.

Shiro lazes about in their huge four-poster bed, silky sheets cooling down his post-sex heated body. He laughs, winking at his husband. His ridiculously gorgeous, loyal, beautiful husband, who dons one of Shiro’s oversized shirts over his naked body and comes back to their bed, flicking his long braid out of the way, and settles in Shiro’s lap again, looking down at him with fondness in his eyes adorned by bushy lashes.

Shiro sighs, running his hands up Keith’s thighs. “I still can’t believe that we’re married now. I would not have dared to dream about anything like this, not when I was—” He trails off but Keith understands him without words anyway.

“You came back. You’re healing. And I’m here, with you.” Keith places Shiro’s palm flat against his chest and Shiro closes his eyes, feeling the heartbeat that Keith vowed to beat in Shiro’s name.

Their wedding was just a few days ago but Shiro is still reeling himself back in. He’s never seen Keith so washed up and… almost conventionally handsome, in his senior Blade parade uniform and his hair pulled into a bun with a few loose locks still framing his sharp face, delicate flowers woven into his hair. If Keith’s appearance as a groom had Shiro’s knees trembling, Keith’s vows had completely knocked the ground from under his feet. 

“It’s good to be back, Keith. And you’re here with me, too.”

“Was that ever in doubt?” Keith laughs out and yelps when Shiro pinches his ass lightly.

“You know now that we’re married you gotta be more careful, baby?”

Keith goes serious. “I promise if you promise.”

“It’s a deal.”

Keith immediately brightens, sighing as he lets Shiro’s hands roam freely. 

Now, Shiro has never been happier and Keith’s sweet little smiles and little pleased hums as they kiss tenderly are all the answer Shiro needs.


End file.
